


Not a Hallmark Movie

by songofhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-25 16:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17124476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: Sam Winchester is a big shot lawyer in New York City whose life is made until his high school crush shows up at Christmas time to derail everything.Dean Winchester is a mechanic in Lawrence, Kansas, but his holiday plans take an unexpected turn when the CEO of his company needs a place to stay.Chapter 1 follows Sam, Chapter 2 follows Dean, and Chapter 3 follows focuses on their Christmas celebration.





	1. Sam Winchester

Sam watched from his office window as Christmas lights lit up the city below. His boss had said he could get a Christmas tree for his office, but he’d declined. He didn’t need another reminder that he couldn’t be with his family on Christmas.

“What are you thinking about?” Ruby asked, her arms wrapping around his shoulders from where she stood behind his chair.

He forced a smile as he placed a hand over hers. “How much work I have to do,” he sighed.

“Well, that’s what you get for being so important to the firm.”

He made a noncommittal noise. This particular law firm had never been his end goal. It had been a good, starting position when he had gotten out of law school, but in his opinion, the firm more emphasis on making money than helping people, and that had never been what he wanted. But then he had met Ruby. She was the owner’s daughter, and Sam highly suspected that his relationship with her was one of the reasons he had been promoted. And now he was stuck. He was working for his girlfriend’s father, and if he ever left, his relationship would be ruined. But he was making good money and was certainly more successful that most people were at his age, so he supposed he shouldn’t complain.

The door opened and his secretary stepped inside. “Sir, your four o’clock is here.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Karen. Send him in.” He turned to Ruby as Karen stepped out. “Guess that’s my cue to get back to work.”

“Fine.” She leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Don’t let daddy work you too late.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because I have control over that.”

She gave him another kissed, then made her way out of the office.

As the door was closing behind her, someone else caught it, and Sam looked up to see that his four o’clock was immediately familiar. Castiel. His stomach did a backflip, he was pretty sure his heart was trying to beat out of his chest, and he had no idea what his face was doing. He hadn’t seen the guy since high school. How did he still have this effect on him?

“Castiel,” he said in surprise.

Recognition lit his eyes and he smiled. “Sam.”

He chuckled lightly at his surprised tone. “You didn’t know it was me?”

“I called into the firm to make an appointment,” Castiel explained. “They didn’t tell me who I would be meeting with. If I had known you worked here, I would have requested you, of course.”

“Well, I’m glad they put you with me. How’ve you been? Are you… living in New York now?” he asked, hope creeping into his voice.

“No. Just visiting family.”

He felt his heart sink slightly, irrationally. “Right. I guess that’s why I had the name Chuck down on my schedule.” He sank back down into his chair. He needed to remember that Castiel was here for business, it wasn’t an opportunity for him to catch up with his high school crush. Not that he needed that, anyway. He was perfectly happy with Ruby.

Castiel nodded as he walked forward to take a seat across from him. “That’s my father. I made him an appointment, but something came up.”

Sam frowned. “What’s going on?”

“My brother is stealing from him, and as my father gets older and his health declines, I know Lucifer is going to take even more advantage of him than he already is. I knew things had been bad for a while, but I didn’t realize how bad until I came for the holidays.”

“Do you have evidence?” he asked, picking up a pen and beginning to scribble away on his note pad.

Castiel explained the situation to him as he took notes. By the end, he was sure of three things: One, Castiel was right about what was going on. Two, it would be a very difficult case to win. Three, the case wouldn’t make the firm that much money, unless he vastly overcharged Castiel, which he refused to do.

Sam stared down at his desk. He wanted nothing more than to help him. This was exactly the kind of thing that he had wanted to do when he became a lawyer – help people in tough situations – and not to mention, Castiel was, or had been, his friend. But he knew what his boss would say if he even suggested taking the case. There was no real money in it and success wasn’t a guarantee. They would look at him like he was insane.

“Cas…” he began hesitantly. “I-I would love to help you out here, I really would. But… it’s just not the kind of thing our firm handles.”

Castiel nodded, looking down. “Of course. I understand.” He offered him a small smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Thank you for your time, Sam.”

He rose to his feet, and Sam followed his lead, reaching out to shake his hand. “It was really good to see you again,” he said fervently.

“You too.” He started to turn to go, but then he glanced back at him. “You know, your office could really use a Christmas tree. I feel it would suit you more.”

He laughed. “Why? Because I’m so Christmassy?”

He shook his head. “It just feels cold in here, and you’re a very warm person. You brighten every room you enter, much like a Christmas tree.”

Sam could feel his cheeks heating up and he really hoped he wasn’t as red as he felt like he was.

“Have a Merry Christmas, Sam,” Castiel continued as he turned away and started walking for the door.

“Cas, wait,” he found himself saying before the thoughts had fully formed in his mind. He didn’t know what he was doing, he just knew that he couldn’t bear to send Castiel away to deal with his situation on his own, he couldn’t bear to watch him walk away period. “I could take your case pro bono.”

Castiel’s eyes were wide as he turned back to him, shaking his head. “I could never ask you to do that.”

“You’re not. I’m offering.”

“Are you sure?” he checked.

He nodded, a smile spreading over his face. “I’m sure.” This was the most like himself that he’d felt since he’d moved to New York.

Castiel returned his smile. “Thank you, Sam.”

* * *

 

The next day Sam and Castiel met up over his lunch break to discuss the case.

“You really don’t have to pay for my food,” Sam insisted after Castiel instructed the waiter to bring him the check.

“You’re helping my family. It is the least I can do.”

He sighed but relented as the waiter set the check down on the table and Castiel snatched it up before Sam could do anything about it.

Once the check was paid, they bundled up, and Castiel fell into step beside Sam as he walked back to his office.

“So, what have you been up to since high school?” Sam asked.

“I’ve done a few different things,” he said with a shrug. “But I’ve been working with Dean for about a year now – as a clerk, not a mechanic. You know how I am with cars.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I remember when Dean tried to teach you.”

“I am never allowed to touch his car again.”

He swayed with his laughter, brushing against Castiel. “I didn’t realize the shop had gotten big enough to hire a clerk,” he said once he sobered up.

Castiel frowned at him, his steps slowing. “You do know what happened, don’t you?”

Sam came to a stop, turning to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Dean had to sell the shop. Crossroads owns it now – it’s part of their auto shop chain.”

“Wha…? He never said….” He shook his head. His and Dean’s father had started the auto shop when they had been kids, and they had done a fair share of helping out there when they were growing up. After their dad had passed away, Dean had immediately stepped up to take over the shop; it was all he had ever wanted to do, after all. He couldn’t believe that had been taken away from him. And Sam was familiar with Crossroads – they owned pretty much half of Kansas, at this point, dabbling in just about everything. Their CEO was a real piece of work, from his understanding. “If he needed money, he could have called.”

“You know Dean,” Castiel sighed. “He never wants to ask for help.”

“I know, but… he never even told me.”

“Well, to be fair, the two of you did sort of drift apart since high school. I mean, when was the last time you went to see him?”

He looked away. Too long, he knew that. But he’d felt bad enough leaving Dean in the first place, seeing him just made everything harder.

“Sam! There you are!” Ruby came darting out of the office building in front of them. “Where have you been?” Her gaze slid to Castiel. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Castiel – he’s a friend from back home,” Sam explained, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. He had always kept his old life from Kansas and his current life in New York very separate from each other. It was weird to be experiencing both at the same time. “He’s in town for the holidays, so we were just grabbing lunch together. Cas, this is my girlfriend, Ruby.”

Was he just imagining it, or was that disappointment that flickered in Castiel’s eyes? It was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said with a small smile. “You have a really great guy here.”

“Yes, I do,” Ruby gushed. “I bet you can’t believe how far he’s made it since high school.”

“Ruby, stop,” Sam muttered.

“Oh, come on, Sam, be proud of your achievements! You’re impressive.”

“Right…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “So, you were looking for me?”

“Yes. My father’s invited us over for dinner tonight. I thought, you know, if there was anything you were wanting to talk to him about, it would be a good opportunity.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ruby had been dropping not-so-subtle hints like this for months. At least it had made Christmas shopping easy – he had bought her a ring just a couple weeks ago. “Sounds great.”

“Good.” She pulled him into a kiss. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“She seems… interesting,” Castiel said once she had walked away.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, she can be a little much sometimes. She’s really great, though.”

“I am glad you are happy,” he said, but there was something in his expression that Sam couldn’t quite put a name to. “You seem to have made quite a life for yourself here.”

“Yeah, I guess I have.” His expression faded slightly. “But maybe I should’ve kept in better touch with my old life. Maybe if I’d talked to Dean more, I could’ve helped him.”

“And maybe if I had kept in better touch with my family, things wouldn’t have gotten as bad as they are,” Castiel pointed out. “Everyone makes mistakes, Sam. You can’t beat yourself up over it.”

“At least you can do something about it, though. It’s too late to save the shop.”

“You can still call Dean. I know he would love to hear from you.”

Sam looked skeptical. “I’m not so sure about that…”

“He’s not mad at you for moving away,” Castiel assured him. “He just misses you.”

He looked down, his guilt weighing on him. “I should get back to work. I’ll be in touch about your case.”

He sighed and nodded. “I’ll look forward to your call.”

* * *

 

Sam and Castiel kept in pretty consistent contact over the next week, and Sam knew that he was putting more time into his case than he devoted to his paying clients, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Even on Christmas Eve, after he had finished up the rest of his work and was ready to leave the office, he found himself pulling Castiel’s file over to tie up a few things before he left for the day.

“I thought you decided not to put up a Christmas tree,” Ruby commented as she entered the office, looking at the tree Sam that had put up shortly after Castiel’s first visit.

Sam shrugged, only looking up briefly from the file. “Thought it made the place look warmer.”

She turned back to him, pouting slightly. “You haven’t forgotten about dinner, have you?”

He almost laughed at that. How could he forget? He had had an engagement ring burning a hole in his pocket all day and his stomach was twisted into a thousand knots. But it was normal to be nervous before proposing. And these were just normal nerves, right?

“Of course not.” He smiled up at her. “I’m just finishing this up real fast.”

She walked around behind the desk, perching on the edge of it, and glanced down. “Castiel? Isn’t that the name of your friend? I didn’t know he was a client.”

“He’s, uh, not exactly. At least, not through the firm. I’m just helping him out.”

She stared down at him. “You’re giving away free legal services? Aren’t you better than that?”

He looked up at her, his expression incredulous. “Better than helping people who need it?”

She sighed exasperatedly as she hopped of the desk. “Look, Sam, I know you have a heart of gold, and I love that about you, really. But when someone’s as good as you are, you should be making money off of everything.”

He shook his head. “I’m not in this for the money, Ruby. I never have been. And if you don’t know that about me-”

“I know, I know, you want to help people – whatever. But you work to _profit._ When you start giving people hand-outs, they’ll start expecting it.”

“I have plenty of money-”

“But you could have more. And you can’t just think about yourself anymore, Sam. You have to think about our future. Okay, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but daddy’s going to retire eventually, and _someone’s_ going to have to run this company. He wants it to be you. But if he knows you’re giving free legal advice, he’ll change his mind – the firm has an image to maintain, after all.”

He stared at her. His boss wanted him to take over the company…. But it was one thing following policies that he disagreed with, there was no way he’d be able to live with himself if he _enforced_ those policies. And here was Ruby looking at him so expectantly. This was the future she had always imagined for herself, he realized – married to someone who made enough money to support her and who didn’t care whose toes they had to step on to do that. But that wasn’t him. How had it taken him so long to realize that?

“Ruby…” he said slowly as he rose to his feet. “I don’t _want_ to run this company.”

Disbelief colored her expression. “But… think about how much money-”

“I don’t care about money! All I want to do is help people, and if that means I’m poor, then that’s fine by me.”

“But you can be so much more,” she insisted.

“I don’t know what you think more is, but whatever it is, I don’t want to be it.” He shook his head. “Is that all you see when you look at me? Someone with the potential to be successful and give you everything you want?”

“Sam, you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I don’t think I am. I think I’m seeing things clearly for the first time in a while.” He grabbed Castiel’s file off his desk and started towards the door. “Goodbye, Ruby.”

“Might I remind you that that’s my house you’re living in?” Her voice was raising, going shrilly with anger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find someplace else to stay.” He didn’t look back as he walked out the door, walking quickly through the halls and stairwells until he walked out the front door, taking a deep breath of fresh air, the reality of what had had just done hitting him.

He was heartbroken – he had thought that he had a future with Ruby, that what they had was real – but he also felt almost… free. For years now, his career and his girlfriend had been so closely tied together that they locked each other in place. But now… he could do whatever he wanted. It was an odd sensation, but not entirely unpleasant.

His phone began to ring and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Hello?” he answered, his voice slightly gruffer than usual.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel’s voice greeted him. “I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas Eve.”

He managed a small smile at that. “Thanks,” he muttered. “You too.”

There was a pause. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you at your office? I can come by.”

“I don’t want to pull you away from your family…”

“We’ve already wrapped everything up. I’m not far, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

He sighed. “Thanks, Cas.”

* * *

 

“I just thought things were different with her, you know,” Sam said a half hour later. He and Castiel were seated at a coffee shop, mugs of hot coffee in their hands. “But maybe I’m not meant to be with anyone.”

“You can’t really think that,” Castiel protested.

“Well, I mean, it’s not like I’ve had the best luck.” He shook his head with a sigh. “Everyone who ends up interested in me only wants something from me.”

“That’s not true,” he said firmly.

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “Name one person who ever actually liked me for me. And you better not say Becky,” he added quickly.

“No, not Becky,” he muttered, his gaze sliding down to his mug. “But there have been… others.”

“Who?” he pressed.

Castiel took a drink of coffee at the same time that he spoke, so it ended up sounding more like a garbled hum than an actual name.

“What was that?” Sam asked.

He set his mug down on the table, staring at it intently as though it was about to do something important. “Me,” he finally said, and Sam realized that the blush on his cheeks wasn’t just from the cold.

He stared at him in disbelief, unable to quite comprehend what Castiel had said. “Y-You?” he stammered.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be inappropriate, but you asked and-”

“When?” he demanded, cursing himself for missing his shot. Because no matter what, they had definitely liked each other at the same time. He had liked Castiel pretty much from the moment he had met him, and the more time he spent with him now, the more he realized he had never quite gotten over him.

Castiel continued to stare down at his coffee, but he didn’t answer.

“Cas…” he began hesitantly, afraid to hope. “You don’t… I mean, do you still…?”

“I should go.” He stood up from the table, but Sam shot up, grabbing hold of his arm.

“Please don’t. I…” But what could he say? He had been suppressing his feelings for him for so long, he wasn’t entirely sure what they were anymore. He knew that he had once loved him, but then Ruby had come along. Besides, Castiel hadn’t said anything about loving him, so even if he did still feel that way, now wasn’t the time to drop that bomb. So instead he did the only other logical thing he could think of, and he kissed him.

Castiel went still for a moment before he returned the pressure of his lips, hesitantly at first, and then with more insistency. By the time they broke apart, they were both a little breathless.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “You, uh… you want to go somewhere more private to talk?”

He nodded, a light in his eyes that Sam was sure hadn’t been there before. “I think that’d be good.”

“Great. I just… let me go to the bathroom, then we can leave.”

“Alright.”

Sam couldn’t decide if he wanted to take his time or move as quickly as possible. On the one hand, he had just kissed Castiel, and he felt that he needed to take a minute to process that, but on the other hand, he wanted to get back out there to him. Now.

In the end, he had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself and then he walked back out to see Castiel standing beside the door, Sam’s coat draped over his left arm and staring down at something he held in his right hand.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Castiel looked up, but that joyous light was no longer in his eyes; instead, he looked sad. He held out the thing in his right hand – it was the ring box that held Ruby’s engagement ring. “This fell out of your pocket when I picked up your coat.” He took a deep breath as he looked up at him. “Sam, I care about you a great deal, but clearly things were more serious between you and Ruby than I thought, and I have no desire to be a rebound.”

“You’re not-”

“I’m sorry, Sam, but I really do need to go.” He shoved the coat and ring box into Sam’s hands, then he fled from the building.

Sam tried to catch him, but he was already speeding away in a cab before Sam could do more than walk outside. He had a moment of blind panic, wondering what he was supposed to do now, but he knew the answer to that – he had already given up one chance with Castiel, he was not about to give up another.

* * *

 

He hammered on the door insistently until it was opened by Castiel’s father. “You’re not a Christmas caroler.”

“No,” Sam said, breathless. “I’m a friend of Castiel’s. Is he here?”

Chuck frowned. “He left over an hour ago. He’s flying back to Lawrence tonight.”

“What? What time is his flight?”

“Um…” He checked his watch. “In about half an hour.”

Unable to care about being rude, Sam spun around and ran off the front porch. The airport was about half an hour away from where he was, but _maybe…_

He was too rushed to even check the time as he ran up to the counter. “The flight for Lawrence, Kansas,” he gasped out. “Has it left, yet?”

The attendant looked at him in surprise before turning to her screen. “Yes, I’m sorry. Two minutes ago.”

Sam’s heart sank for just a moment, then determination stole over him once again. “When’s the next flight?”

She paused to look something up. “Tomorrow. Six A.M.”

He nodded resolutely. “I’d like to buy a ticket.”

He didn’t have anywhere else to go, so he slept in the airport. He couldn’t believe he was going back to Lawrence. He’d gone back for a week or so after he’d graduated from Stanford, but then he had moved to New York. Sure, he’d talked to his brother on the phone a few times – less and less as the years went by – but he hadn’t been back to his hometown to see him since he’d moved.

Of course, as soon as he stepped out into the Lawrence airport, he realized his problem – he had no idea where Castiel lived. He could call Dean, but… he so rarely spoke to him, and he felt bad calling on Christmas morning to ask where Castiel lived and adding, ‘Oh, I’m in town by the way – here to see your best friend, when I haven’t come to see you in years. I’ll probably stop by, though, if you aren’t busy.’

He sighed as he pulled out his phone, calling the person he always called when he needed someone tracked down off the record.

“What the hell are you doing working on Christmas?” Charlie demanded the second she picked up the phone.

Sam laughed. “Sorry to bug you, Charlie. I just need you to track someone down for me really fast.”

“Aw, and I didn’t get you anything. What’s the name?”

“Castiel Novak.”

She paused. “Why? What’s he involved with?” she asked worriedly.

He frowned. “Do you know him?”

“He’s a friend. And my friends come before my work. So, if he’s in trouble-”

“He’s not. I… I’m not working. This is personal.”

“Personal how, Mr. Sam No-Last-Name?”

Sam rolled his eyes. When he had started working with Charlie, he’d been very careful not to reveal too much to her. The work she did wasn’t exactly legal, so he did not need his name tied to her, just in case. “I screwed up, and I just need to talk to him.”

“Wait a second… are you…? Oh, you _are,_ aren’t you?”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I’m what?” he asked hesitantly.

“You’re Dean’s little brother, aren’t you?”

Well, so much for that. He should have figured when she said that she knew Castiel. “Look, could you give me Cas’s address, _please?_ I really need to talk to him.”

“Oh, definitely! Let me just pull it up. So, are you coming to Dean’s Christmas party tonight?”

“Um, I… maybe,” he said uncomfortably. Dean was throwing a Christmas party?

“You better make that a yes, mister,” she said sternly. “Alright, I got the address.”

* * *

 

Sam took a deep breath before he knocked on the front door of Castiel’s apartment. This had been so much easier when he had been rushing the night before. Now that he’d had all night and morning to think about what he was doing, he was nervous as hell.

The door opened and Castiel’s eyes grew wide in surprise as he saw who was standing on the other side. “Sam. What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you. Look, you need to know that you’re _not_ a rebound. I would never do that to you. I’ve been falling in love with you since the moment I met you, but I always thought you just thought of me as Dean’s little brother, so I pushed it down. It was easier after I moved away to convince myself that I was over you. Hell, I was so determined to move on that I didn’t even realize I don’t actually love the woman I was planning to propose to. I just thought it was what I was supposed to do. Settle down, get married, put you in my past because that was the only way I’d be happy. But then you came into my life again and I remembered what it was like to be in love, and I didn’t feel that with Ruby. I’ve only ever felt it with you.” The words had just come spilling out of him in a flood, and now he was breathing heavily, as though he had just run a mile. “So… yeah. That’s it, I guess.”

Castiel’s expression was amazed. “You came all the way to Lawrence just to tell me that?” he asked slowly.

He shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do?”

A brilliant smile was spreading over his face, seemingly despite himself. “I have a phone, you know.”

He shook his head. “That wasn’t good enough.”

“Well…” He took a step back. “Would you like to come in? I’m afraid I don’t have any food, as I’ve been out of town, but Gabriel did send me home with some Christmas cookies.”

Sam smiled. “That sounds great.”

“Good.”

“Oh, and Sam?” he added as he shut the door behind him.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking back at him.

“I love you, too.”

Sam couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Castiel by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss.


	2. Dean Winchester

There was Christmas music blaring through the shop and Dean was in the middle of repining some tinsel that had fallen down in the office when the phone rang. He frowned in the direction of the desk and attempted to reach for the phone without letting go of the tinsel, determined not to lose his progress. Suddenly, the chair he was standing on tipped forward and he fell to the ground, pulling the tinsel off the hooks as he went. He sighed as he brought the phone he had managed to pick up to his ear, thinking how much he missed Castiel.

“Crossroads Auto,” he answered calmly. “This is Dean.”

“Everything better be going smoothly there,” the district manager said sharply over the phone.

“Oh, yeah. Smooth as silk.”

“Good. Because Crowley MacLeod is on his way to your shop.”

Dean nearly dropped the phone. The CEO of Crossroads? “Why?” he found himself asking.

“Why do you think? He was passing through Lawrence and started having car trouble. You better take good care of him. _No_ slip-ups, you understand?”

“Hey, I can do my job.”

“Well, you better do it well.” With that, he hung up.

Dean glared at the phone as he slammed it back down onto the receiver. He really missed when he didn’t have to answer to anyone. He remembered when his dad had first opened this shop, how happy he’d been; Dean had been looking forward to the day that he’d get to take over. This was supposed to have been a family business, not a heartless franchise, but when Crossroads Auto (just one division of the large Crossroads corporation that ran most of Kansas) had backed Dean into a corner, he had been forced to sell. Of course he felt like he had failed his dad, but he hadn’t been able to see another option – and it wasn’t like business had exactly been booming even before Crossroads entered the picture. So now he worked under an asshole district manager, and he was apparently about to have to kiss ass to the dick bag that had bought out his father’s business. Merry freakin’ Christmas.

The bell dinged behind him signaling that someone had entered the shop, and Dean was suddenly aware of the fact that he was sitting on the floor with red and gold tinsel wrapped around him.

“Well,” a British voice spoke from behind him. “Glad to see you’re hard at work.”

He scrambled to his feet, somehow managing not to trip over the tinsel that was still draped around him as he spun around to see a man, who he assumed to be Crowley, standing just inside the door. “I was decorating.”

“Yes, Christmas decorations are an imperative part of every auto shop. So glad to see my money’s being put to good use.”

Oh, so Crowley _was_ just as much of an asshole as he had always figured. Good to know. “Customers like it when places are decorated for the holidays,” he argued coolly, unable to help himself. “It’s a proven fact.”

“I believe that customers like it even more when you actually look at their car when they come in, rather than play dress-up with tinsel.” He smiled coldly at him. “But please, correct me if I’m wrong. I’ve only spent thousands of dollars in researching what customers like and look for in a business.”

“Wow. You seriously spent thousands of dollars to find out that customers like it when they receive the service they came for? I don’t wanna tell you how to run your business, but I think that’s a bigger waste of money than me putting up Christmas decorations. Just saying.”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. “What was your name?”

“Dean Winchester.” And since making a good impression on the CEO was clearly out the window, he added, “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but frankly, it isn’t.”

“That so? You don’t like being employed then, I take it?”

“Hey, go ahead, fire me. Everyone else is on vacation. I’d love to see who’s gonna fix your car, then.”

“I don’t see you fixing it now. It might be worth risking driving on it for another forty miles to get to a mechanic who’s actually competent.”

A sudden urge to prove Crowley wrong and wipe that smug, self-confident look off his face shot through Dean. “No mechanic’s as competent as I am, sweetheart. I’m just waiting for you to tell me what the problem is.”

Dean had expected Crowley to drive one of the obnoxious, newer cars that he couldn’t stand working on, but instead he walked outside to see an old Bentley parked in front of the shop. He whistled. Antique cars were his passion and he didn’t get to work on them nearly often enough. At least there was a silver lining to having to deal with Crowley.

A couple hours later, he walked back into the office, where Crowley was busy working on his tablet. “Who was the last person you took your car to?” he asked curiously.

“My usual mechanic in Kansas City. Why?” he glanced up from his tablet with an eyebrow raised.

“That explains it. The guy clearly doesn’t know what he’s doing – you have months upon months of crappy mechanic work built up in that car. No wonder it’s craping out on you – it was only a matter of time.”

“Guy is an excellent mechanic-”

“Oh, yeah? And what kind of cars does he generally work on?”

“He works in the richest district of Kansas City-”

“So all those fancy-spancy new cars that are cheaply made? Yeah, it’s easy to be great at those. But a car like yours requires more than some run-of-the-mill knowledge of cars. It needs an expert hand. Which, with how you pay your employees, you ain’t gonna find at a Crossroads Auto unless you’re lucky enough to have an employee who’s actually passionate about what he does.”

“Like yourself, I presume?” he asked dryly.

“Yep. That Bentley’s gonna take some serious work, but by the time I’m done with her, she’ll seem like new again.”

Crowley eyes him speculatively for several seconds before he gave a satisfied nod and set his tablet down beside him. “Alright. How long?”

“It’s gonna take some time, but thankfully, there’s only one part I need to order, and it shouldn’t take too long to get here. I’d estimate two days, three tops.”

“Excellent.” He rose to his feet. “If you’re as impressive as you say you are, I might just forgive your behavior towards me.”

“Gee, thanks.” He rolled his eyes. “Can I call you a cab?” He was definitely looking forward to getting Crowley out of his shop.

“I’m going to need a place to stay,” he said as though Dean was an idiot.

“And _how_ is that my problem?”

“You’re more familiar with the area. So, why don’t you find me a room somewhere near by? And for the love of god, nothing less than 150 a night. I can only imagine the kinds of places you must stay at when you travel.”

Dean fought the urge to punch him in the face as he walked over to his computer and ran a search. The problem was, a week before Christmas, there wasn’t much available. Or anything available, actually.

“Sorry, your highness, looks like you’re gonna have to slum it,” he said matter-of-factly, looking up at Crowley with a poorly suppressed grin.

“Here’s a little lesson about me: I never _have_ to do anything. I do what I want, when I want. And so no, I will not stay at…” He walked around the desk to look over Dean’s shoulder. “The Trail Motel.”

“Don’t know what you plan to do, then.”

“Bunk with you?”

Dean scoffed. “Very funny.”

“I know, still slumming it. But at least I’m mildly more confident that your place will lack cockroaches.”

“You’re not joking,” he realized, turning to look at him in disbelief.

“Well, I can’t stay at any of these places.” He motioned towards the screen in disgust. “That leaves you.”

“Hell no. You’re not staying in my house.”

“Why not?” Crowley asked candidly as though the request weren’t completely out of line. But maybe for him it wasn’t – he was probably used to people giving him whatever he wanted.

“Because you’re an asshole! And my house isn’t just open to any person passing through town.”

He regarded him thoughtfully for a few seconds. “How would you like a Christmas bonus?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. “How much are we talking?”

“Five hundred.”

He scoffed. “Try again.”

“A thousand. And that’s as good as you’re getting.”

He contemplated it for a moment. “Fine. But I want it now.”

He rolled his eyes as he pulled out his checkbook, but he also looked slightly impressed. “How do you spell your name?”

* * *

 

“Spare bedroom’s down the hall, last door on the left,” Dean instructed curtly once they had made it to his house.

“Don’t suppose you have a study where I can get some work done?” Crowley asked as he put down the bags that Dean had refused to help him carry in.

“Use the dining room.” He nodded towards the room that adjoined to the kitchen.

“Lovely,” he sighed.

“Hey, you want to leave, you can do so at any time. And don’t expect any special treatment because you’re the CEO, or whatever.”

Crowley scoffed. “Don’t worry, darling. You have certainly not led me to believe that I will be receiving special treatment in any way. I’ll just get myself situated, shall I?”

* * *

 

The next morning, Dean fell into his usual routine. He got out of bed, splashed some water over his face, then wandered out to the kitchen to make breakfast. It wasn’t until he heard a voice speaking from behind him that he remembered that Crowley was even there.

“I will admit, the view here is definitely better than it would be at a hotel,” he said, sounding amused at finding Dean cooking, wearing nothing but his boxers. Well, amused and… something else.

Dean turned around, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Are you flirting with me?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I?” His eyes roamed over his body, not bothering to be subtle.

He shook his head. “Knock it off.” Sure, Crowley was attractive, and if he were anyone else… but he wasn’t. He was the guy who had taken his dad’s business away from him, and Dean could never forgive that. He turned back to the stove. “How many eggs do you want?”

A few minutes later, they had settled down to an uncomfortable breakfast together. “What’re you going to do today?” Dean asked.

Crowley shrugged. “I figured I would stay here. Get some work done.”

“No way,” he said immediately. “I’m not leaving you alone in my house.”

“What are you worried about? It’s not like you have anything worth stealing here.”

“I’m just not comfortable with it. You either need to find somewhere else to go, or come with me and work from the shop.

Much to Dean’s dismay, Crowley chose to come to him with the shop. At least Crowley would be working from the office, where Dean wouldn’t be spending much of his time. It was a small mercy, but it was something.

He was about an hour into his work when Crowley stepped out into the shop. “Would you mind turning off that racket?” he snapped.

Dean wheeled himself out from under the Bentley to glare up at him. “It’s my shop. It’s Christmas. So, I will blast my Christmas music as loud as I want, Scrooge. In fact.” He picked up the remote and turned the radio up a few notches.

“Really, Dean, I’m trying to work in here.”

“Don’t care.”

“You do realize that the work I do is what keeps Crossroads afloat?”

“You say that like I give a damn about Crossroads. It can all go down in a fiery blaze, for all I care.”

Crowley frowned in confusion, taking a few steps further into the shop to stand over Dean. “If you hate it so much, why not quit? A mechanic as good as yourself, you’d easily be able to find another job – not that I’m encouraging it, mind you.”

“Because I’m not leaving this shop,” he said resolutely.

His frown deepened. “Why not?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Dean pushed himself to his feet. “Let me show you something.” He walked over to the corner of the shop and knelt down, touching the bottom of the wall. “This was the very first cinderblock laid when construction began.”

Crowley knelt down beside him. “John, Dean, Sam, 12/25/1988,” he read the engraving with dawning realization.

“My dad put his blood, sweat, and tears into this place,” Dean said, anger reverberating with each word he spoke. “Family Business Autoshop. It was his life. And when he died, I made a promise to myself that I would keep this place alive for him.” His eyes were sparkling with rage and sadness as he turned to Crowley. “And then Crossroads said that if I didn’t sell, they’d put me out of business. So yeah, I hate you, I hate your company, but I am _not_ leaving.” He got up and returned to his work, leaving Crowley where he was, his expression unreadable.

* * *

 

Dean walked into the office a few hours later, wiping his hands off as he went to sit behind the desk. He would never begrudge Castiel going to see his family over the holidays, but it was really difficult to balance being both clerk and mechanic.

“Crossroads has a lot of operations, you know,” Crowley spoke up, that same weird, unreadable expression on his face as he looked at Dean. “I’m not behind all, or even most, of our acquisitions. I never set out to take your shop from you.”

Dean’s eyes flickered to him, then away again. “I’m going to order lunch,” he said as though Crowley hadn’t spoke, though his tone was slightly friendlier than it had been previously. “What do you want?”

He sighed. “Where from?”

“Biggerson’s.”

He grimaced. “I have never eaten there in my life. I haven’t even the faintest idea of what they have.”

He grinned. “Guess I’m ordering for you, then.”

* * *

 

“This is disgusting,” Crowley declared one bite into his bacon burger.

“Well then, you have no taste,” Dean shot back. “It’s bacon on a burger, what’s not to love about that?”

“How about the fact that I think there’s more grease than meat here?”

“That just gives it flavor.”

He shook his head as he put his burger down and pushed it away.

“Want me to order you something else?” Dean offered.

“I’m fine. But I’m choosing dinner tonight.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you, now?”

“Yes. We’re going to an actually decent restaurant. And I don’t want to hear any complaints because I’m paying.”

He laughed. “Fine. You wanna buy me an expensive meal, I ain’t gonna complain.”

“Good.”

He pretended not to notice how Crowley watched him as he continued to eat his own bacon burger and fries, but he did feel relieved when the other man’s gaze finally slid away from him.

“Who’s this?” Crowley asked, picking up a picture of Dean, his arm slung around the shoulder of a taller guy with longer, brown hair.

“My little brother, Sam.”

“Guess you two are close,” he commented as he put the picture back down on Dean’s desk.

“We used to be,” Dean said wistfully.

“What happened?”

He looked at him suspiciously, but he seemed to be honestly curious. “He went off to college shortly after our dad died. And I mean, Stanford was his dream, I could never blame him for that, but… I tried to convince to stick around for just another year, but I think in the same way that I needed to dive into this shop and do family stuff to remember dad, Sam just needed to get away from it all. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him to stay – it’s like everything changed between us after that. I think I offended him or something, I dunno.” He sighed, looking down at his food, wondering why he was spilling his heart to Crowley of all people.

“You weren’t out of line to ask for the support of your brother in a difficult time,” Crowley spoke up, surprising him.

“Then why will he hardly talk to me anymore?” he asked, looking up at him.

“That’s his problem, not yours.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered.

Crowley looked like he was about to reply, but at that moment, the phone rang.

“Crossroads Auto,” Dean answered the phone.

“Hey, I’m calling in regards to that part you ordered for the Bentley.” He recognized the voice of his usual supplier.

“What about it?”

“We’re a little understaffed with the holidays and everything, so I’m afraid it’ll be arriving a little later than originally anticipated.”

He sat up a little straighter, frowning into the phone. “How much later?”

“It’s due to arrive the day after Christmas.”

“You’re kidding! Isn’t there anyway you can get it here earlier?”

“I’m sorry, Dean, but there’s no way.”

He sighed. “Okay, thanks anyway.” He hung up the phone and turned back to Crowley. “I have some bad news. I won’t be able to get the part I need to fix your car until after Christmas. I know it’ll be a hassle, but maybe you can catch a plane-”

“Because even a Christmas bonus isn’t worth me staying two extra days with you?” Crowley asked, half teasing, half… disappointed?

Dean frowned. “No, I just figured you had somewhere to be for Christmas.”

“It’s just another day,” he said with a careless shrug.

“It’s a day to celebrate,” he protested.

“I fail to see the point.”

“Wow, you really are a Scrooge,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Alright then,” he said determinedly, “I guess I’ll just have to show you the point.”

He grinned. “I would love to see you try.”

* * *

 

Dean spent the next couple of days dragging Crowley along for all of his Christmas traditions. At first, he mostly just got a lot of eye rolls and snark, but then he started to notice Crowley smiling when he thought he wasn’t being watched, and Dean had to admit, that felt pretty good. Now it was two days before Christmas, and that night’s Christmas activity was the one that Dean had been looking forward to the most.

“You know, I’ve heard legend of heated stores that sell trees with lights _already on them,”_ Crowley said as they navigated their way through the Christmas tree farm.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Dean demanded.

“Not freezing to death, that’s pretty fun.”

He rolled his eyes. “Quit being so dramatic and help me look for a tree.”

They continued walking through the rows of trees, eyes peeled for that perfect one. Dean was scrutinizing one potential contender when he suddenly felt a hand grab hold of his and then he was yanked in front of what was undoubtedly the best tree they had seen that night.

“What do you think?” Crowley asked.

“It’s perfect,” he said with a grin, which he then turned on the man beside him. “Now to take it home and decorate it.”

“I think I’ll let you take the lead on that. I don’t have any experience-”

“Hey, I said I was going to show you how to get into the Christmas spirit, and that means you’re helping me decorate this tree. End of story.” He let go of Crowley’s hand and moved forward to chop down the tree.

* * *

 

Dean couldn’t suppress his laughter as he watched Crowley struggle with wrapping the tinsel around the tree.

Crowley turned on him with narrowed eyes. “Hey! This isn’t as easy as it looks!”

“Crowley, I’ve done it myself for the past several years, and I’ve never had a problem with it.”

“Well, why don’t you come show me how it’s done, then?”

He walked forward with a smirk and reached around Crowley to grab the tinsel out of his hands. He then proceeded to wrap it around Crowley himself. “There. Perfect.”

He leaned his head back to glare up at him. “If you wanted to tie me up, you could have just asked. Though I’m pretty sure this isn’t the best material for that.”

Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably as he stepped back. “I wasn’t – I just…” He shook his head. “Just wrap it around the tree. It doesn’t have to be even.”

“But if it’s not even-”

“Once we put the ornaments on, no one will notice,” he assured him.

The decorating of the tree continued with no more incidents, but with plenty of smiles and banter. Who would’ve thought that he’d be having such a good time with _Crowley?_ But here he was, enjoying getting ready for Christmas more than he had since his dad’s death.

When they were almost done, Dean had to step out of the room for a moment to take a call. He returned a few minutes later as Crowley was hanging the last of the ornaments.

“Want to go to a Christmas party tomorrow?” he asked.

“With you? I’d love to.” He picked the tree topper up out of the box. “Just the star left.”

“Why don’t you do the honors?”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded. “Definitely.”

Crowley failed to hide his smile as he turned back to the tree and placed the star on top.

* * *

 

“So, who’s Christmas party is this?” Crowley asked on their way to the party the next day.

“My friend, Benny’s,” Dean said. “Well, technically it’s the restaurant he’s head chef at’s party, but he’s who invited me. And it’s one of those fancy, exclusive parties, so it’s right up your alley.”

“Good. I could use something a little more familiar after all the Christmas I’ve had shoved down my throat as of late.”

“Oh please, you’ve enjoyed it.”

“I’ll admit to nothing.”

Dean laughed. “I can’t believe Christmas is tomorrow.”

“I suppose you’ll want me out of your hair,” Crowley muttered, looking away from him, out the side window. “I’m sure you have big plans.”

“Not exactly,” he admitted. “I mean, the only family I have never leaves New York, so the past few years I’ve just hosted Christmas dinner for people who don’t have family to spend the day with. I guess you fit that bill, too. Assuming you can stomach a traditional Christmas dinner, that is.”

He turned to look at him, a small grin tugging up the corners of his lips. “I think I can manage.”

* * *

 

Benny definitely had a good gig at the restaurant, Dean decided an hour into the party. The place was pretty nice, and the food was delicious. He shoved another crab cake into his mouth.

“So,” Benny came up behind him. “Who’s your date?”

He swallowed down the crab cake before he managed to choke on it. “He’s not my date,” he said as he turned to his friend. “He’s Crowley MacLeod.”

He raised his eyebrows and whistled. “Never thought you’d be friendly with him.”

“Yeah well, his car broke down and he needed a place to stay while I fix it up. And actually, turns out he’s not a _complete_ asshole. Only mostly one.”

He chuckled. “So, exactly your type, then.”

“What? Shut up, it’s not like that!”

“Sure, it’s not.” He rolled his eyes. “But does he know that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

“Haven’t you noticed the way he watches you?”

“He’s not watching me now,” he protested triumphantly.

Benny’s eyes moved to the corner of the room. “You sure about that?” he asked with a grin.

Dean followed his gaze and met Crowley’s eyes.

“I vote go for it,” Benny continued.

He shot him a glare. “There’s nothing to go for. I’m just the only one here he knows.”

Before another argument could be made, Dean walked off to the corner of the room where Crowley was standing. “Hey. Enjoying the party?”

“It’s alright.” Crowley shrugged. “I do believe that I enjoyed last night more, though.”

He blinked in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Oh, don’t get too excited, I haven’t caught the Christmas bug. But I do enough sweet-talking people I don’t know or care about every other day of my life. It’s been nice to be a little more… real.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“Though there is one Christmas tradition that I do appreciate,” he continued.

“Really? And what’s that?”

He glanced up. “Mistletoe.”

Dean followed his gaze up to the mistletoe hanging above them before his eyes snapped back down to meet his again. _Oh._ And then he was kissing Crowley, and the biggest surprise of it all  was the realization that he had absolutely no desire to stop.

* * *

 

Dean slipped out of bed quietly the next morning so as not to wake Crowley, still unable to believe what had happened between them. They hadn’t stayed at the party too long after their kiss, quickly making an excuse to leave, and Benny was only too happy to let them go on their merry way.

A week ago, Crowley had been the faceless asshole that was responsible for everything bad in Dean’s life, and now he was sleeping with the guy. He shook his head as he brewed himself a cup of coffee and then walked into the dining room to enjoy it.

Benny had had a point the night before – Crowley was his type. But he had been so focused on first hating Crowley, and then showing him how to enjoy Christmas, that he hadn’t stopped to realize how he actually felt about the guy. And he did like him. It hadn’t been just physical attraction that had caused him to fall into bed with him last night. So, what had it been for Crowley?

He was staring down at his cup of coffee when something on the table caught his eye. It was one of the numerous folders Crowley had scattered about, but this one was labeled ‘Crossroads Auto – Lawrence, KS’. His curiosity piqued, he reached for the folder.

He flipped through the first few pages about how much money the shop was making, etcetera, and then came to what he was really looking for – email correspondence about buying out Family Business Autoshop.

The first email in the chain was talking about how Family Business was the most strategic location in Lawrence for a shop, had data to back it up, and suggested a price to offer for it. The reply was by Crowley: _‘Perfect. But offer half of that – Winchester isn’t a businessman, he won’t know what a good offer is. If he digs in his heels, say we’ll open up shop right next door – that’ll put him out of business for sure.’_

Dean felt like he was going to be sick as he closed the folder and shoved it away from him. So, Crowley _had_ pushed for the acquisition of his shop, after all, had made sure that Dean wouldn’t be able to say no. And he was the reason he had gotten such an awful deal out of it.

Needing to do something, he got up from the table and went to wash his mug in the sink, cursing himself for being so stupid. Why had he gone and trusted Crowley? Of course he had just been screwing with him. He should have trusted his instincts instead.

“Merry Christmas.”

He turned around to see Crowley standing behind him, a wide smile on his face. Dean didn’t even know what to say.

“Last night was-”

“A mistake,” Dean cut him off.

Crowley blinked. “Sorry?”

“I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I must have had too much to drink.”

“You didn’t have that-”

“I think you should leave,” he said sharply.

He stared at him for a few seconds. “Dean, what’s wrong?” he asked slowly.

“What’s wrong? I slept with an asshole who I despise, that’s what’s wrong! Just get the hell out of my house. Garth will call you when your car’s ready.”

His jaw dropped open slightly, but then he gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll just gather my things, then.”

Dean sighed in a mixture of relief and sadness as Crowley walked away. He could feel moisture welling up in his eyes and he determinedly pushed it away. He would _not_ cry over someone like Crowley.

About twenty minutes later, Crowley came in and gathered up all his paperwork. “Your Christmas present’s under the tree,” he said coolly as he turned around, his luggage in hand.

Dean didn’t say anything as he walked out the door.

* * *

 

 “So, where’s Crowley?” Benny asked when he showed up a few hours later to help Dean prepare the food for dinner that night.

“Gone,” Dean muttered without looking up from the green bean casserole he was mixing up.

He turned to look at him. “Back to Kansas City, or…?”

“Just gone, okay?” he snapped before he slammed the lid onto the casserole dish and shoved it into the oven.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked after a few seconds.

“No!” He rounded on him. “He’s an asshole, okay? I’m glad he’s gone.”

“It shows,” he murmured as he turned away.

Charlie was the next one to show up, a couple hours before the official start time of their dinner.

“Hey, guys,” she said as she walked into the kitchen. “Smells good in here.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, forcing a smile that he hoped looked genuine.

She studied him for a few seconds. “What’s got you out of the Christmas spirit? Normally it’s spilling from your ears at this point.”

“It’s just been a tough week,” he sighed, feeling a sudden need to be alone. At least that way he wouldn’t have to deal with questions like these. “Hey, Benny, you good in here? There’s a few things I have to tidy up in the living room.”

He nodded, a knowing expression on his face. “Sure thing, brother.”

He gave Charlie a brief hug so that he wouldn’t have to face her wrath later, then sought out the solace of the living room.

He breathed a deep breath, the relief lasting for only a few seconds before he realized his mistake. His gaze landed on the tree that he and Crowley had decorated together and he had the sudden urge to tear it all to the ground. He should never have let him into his house, no matter how much money he offered him.

His gaze slid down and he saw a card beneath the tree with, _‘To Dean, From Crowley,’_ written on it. His legs were moving him forward before he even had the conscious thought, and then he was picking up the envelope. He should tear it to shreds, but his curiosity got the better of him. Besides, there could be money in there – that seemed like just the thing Crowley would think was a heartfelt gift. Inside was a generic Christmas card with nothing inside it except a note written in Crowley’s handwriting:

_‘Merry Christmas, Dean._

_You know, I’ve never said those words to anyone before. I suppose that wouldn’t surprise you, given how much you know I find the whole idea of Christmas terribly pointless. Or I suppose I should say found. Somehow the Christmas spirit doesn’t look so ridiculous on you. It almost makes me want to get into the Christmas spirit, too. Almost._

_I did want to get you a present, though – my first ever ‘Merry Christmas’ and my first ever Christmas present, you should feel honored – but nothing I found seemed right. That is, until I realized that the perfect present for you is obvious and I was just horribly overthinking the whole thing._

_I’ve already spoken to my board, and Crossroads is shutting down our Lawrence location. They all think I’m mad, of course, but it’s not as though we need the extra business to stay afloat. Instead, I would like to personally invest in the reopening of Family Business Autoshop. I’m sorry it was ever taken away from you, but I will make sure that never happens again._

_XO Crowley’_

Dean stared down at the card in disbelief, reading it a second and then a third time to make sure he’d really read it right. Then he sprang into action.

“Benny,” he spoke hastily as he entered the kitchen. “Can you hold down the fort?”

Benny looked at him in surprise, but only said, “Sure thing, chief.”

“Thanks. Charlie, I need your help tracking someone down.”

“Boy, I’m popular today,” Charlie said, turning to him with a smile. “You need home address, or-”

“No. Where he is right this second.”

Benny smiled to himself as he turned back to the mashed potatoes.

“Alright, I’m going to need my tablet,” Charlie declared.

She grabbed her tablet from her bag and then managed to hack into the cell phone company to track Crowley’s phone. “He’s at your shop,” she said in surprise.

Dean sprang to his feet. “I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

 

Crowley looked up in surprise as Dean burst into the office. “Aren’t you supposed to be celebrating Christmas?”

“What the hell is this about?” Dean demanded as he waved the card in front of him. “You think you can just force me to sell you my shop and then give it back to me with a bow and that makes up for it? I saw the emails, Crowley! I know you told them to lower the price and threaten me so I’d sell!”

He looked down. “I didn’t know you back then.”

“So what?” he shouted. “So, I’m supposed to just be okay with the fact that you’ll screw people over like that?”

“Of course not,” he sighed. “But you have to understand, Dean – I never thought about the consequences of my acquisitions before. I just figured that small businesses are doomed to fail anyway, so really I was doing them a favor by buying them up. I never knew how much heart someone could put into something as simple as an auto shop. Not until you showed me.”

Dean breathed out a deep breath. “So… what? You’ve seen the error of your ways and you vow to do better?”

He shrugged, a wry smile turning up his lips. “I’ll give it a try, at least. Being a good person isn’t exactly in my repertoire.”

He chuckled. “I’m shocked.” He gave a small sigh, sobering up again. “Look, if you’re being serious here-”

“I am,” he answered immediately.

He nodded. “Then I’m gonna need more than a distant investor. You were right, I’m not a businessman – there’s a reason the shop wasn’t doing so well before you bought it. I could use some help running it.”

Crowley smirked. “Are you asking me to stick around?”

“Hey, you can run Crossroads from anywhere, right? And… well, I think you need to at least stick around long enough for me to give you a second chance.” He gave him a slightly sheepish look.

He smiled. “Does that mean I’m re-invited to Christmas dinner?”

“That means I’m dragging you with me whether you want to come or not. I’m not dating a guy that’s never properly celebrated Christmas before.”

He arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh, so we’re dating now, are we?”

Dean blushed. “I – well… I mean, if-”

Crowley cut him off by pulling him into a kiss. “Guess we’d better get going, then. I’d hate to have suffered through days of Christmas festivities only to not make the cut now.”

He didn’t say anything, just rested his hands on Crowley’s waist and pulled him in for another kiss.


	3. Christmas

“So, when’s Castiel supposed to get here?” Charlie asked as Dean set the last dish down in the middle of the table.

“Oh, you know him,” Dean said. “Normally shows up right on time.”

“Who’s Castiel?” Crowley broke away from his conversation with Benny to ask.

“My best friend. Fair warning, he’s pretty protective and he’s gonna hate you.”

“Sounds charming. Can’t wait to meet him.”

“When’d he get back from New York?” Benny asked.

“Last night.”

“You heard from him since he got back?” Charlie asked, showing more interest than usual as she leaned forward onto the table.

“He texted to let me know he got in safely, but that’s all.”

“Hmm…. Say, your brother lives in New York, doesn’t he?”

Dean looked at her curiously. “Yeah…. But it’s a big city, and they would’ve been running in different circles. I highly doubt their paths crossed.”

“Have you heard from Sam today?” Benny asked, looking at Dean with a hint of concern in his expression.

He sighed. “No,” he muttered, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes. “But hey, he’s probably so busy he doesn’t even realize it’s Christmas.” A part of him wondered if he should have gone to New York with Castiel, but there was no guarantee that Sam would even have wanted to see him. Hell, he probably _didn’t_ want to see him. And besides, if he had gone, he wouldn’t have ended up meeting Crowley, and he wasn’t too fond of the idea of giving up the best thing that had happened to him in years.

The doorbell rang. “That’ll be Cas.” He left to get the door, squeezing Crowley’s hand on his way out of the room.

* * *

 

“I don’t know about this, Cas,” Sam muttered as they walked up the front steps to Dean’s house. “Dean was pissed when I left. He’s probably gonna punch me in the face.”

“He is not going to punch you in the face.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Alright,” Castiel relented. “But after he punches you in the face, he will be happy to see you.”

He laughed. “Thanks, I feel loads better.”

“Everything will be fine, Sam,” he assured him, reaching to take his hand as he rang the doorbell.

A few moments later, the door was opened by a smiling Dean Winchester. “Hey-” He broke off as his eyes landed on his brother, his eyes going wide. “Sam…” His eyes flickered down to their joined hands, then back up to his face.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said tentatively. “Merry Christmas.”

Dean just stared at him, clearly at a loss for words. “What… what are you doing here?” he finally asked.

“I, um…” He sighed. “You were right, Dean. I didn’t belong in New York, I belong here. But I didn’t want to hear it. That’s why I never wanted to talk to you – I felt guilty enough as is, I didn’t need your judgement on top of that. But then Cas showed up and helped me realize….” He shook his head, realizing he was rambling. “I quit my job. I’m going to open up my own law firm here, in Lawrence.”

He blinked in surprise. “Isn’t that a little small game for you after New York?” he asked, his tone hard to decipher.

He shook his head. “I’ll be able to really help people, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Besides, I’ll be closer to you.”

A smile spread over Dean’s face. “Well… welcome home, Sammy.”

Sam let go of Castiel’s hand so that his brother could pull him into a hug.

“And _you,”_ Dean said sternly over his shoulder. “You better take good care of my little brother, you hear me?”

Sam pulled back in time to see Castiel smile. “I would never do anything less.”

* * *

 

Everyone but Charlie was surprise when Dean led Sam and Castiel into the dining room and began the introductions. He saved Crowley for last because he knew it would be a doozy.

“And uh, this is the guy I’m currently seeing-”

“Currently?” Crowley interrupted in mock offense. “You make me sound like just one in a long chain.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Crowley MacLeod.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide as he rounded on Dean. “As in the CEO of Crossroads?” he demanded. Castiel, Dean noticed, was also staring at him in disbelief.

He sighed. “Yes, but-”

“But Cas told me what he did! He forced you to sell Family Business! How could you-”

“Okay,” Dean sighed. He was ecstatic to have his brother back as a permanent fixture his life, and he really didn’t feel like marring that by having this argument – not that he could blame Sam in the least for being so indignant. He stepped back, hoping that this would be enough to put a stop to it, and raised his voice. “I have an announcement to make, everyone.”

Everyone turned their eyes on him – Charlie and Benny looked curious, Sam and Castiel still disbelieving, and Crowley grateful for the rescue from the attack.

“Crowley has informed me that Crossroads will be shutting down the Lawrence location by the end of the year. Instead, he’s decided to personally help me reopen Family Business Autoshop. If all goes well, the doors should reopen around late January, early February.”

Sam’s jaw dropped open as Dean reached out a hand for Crowley, drawing him to his side and into a kiss.

* * *

 

Towards the end of the night, Sam managed to get Dean alone as he helped him wash the dishes. “So, this thing with Crowley…?” he brought up after a minute.

“I know it seems crazy,” Dean sighed. “But… these past few days with him, I’ve just felt happier than I have in a long time.”

“So, this isn’t just some ploy to get him to help you reopen the shop?” he checked without much hope. After Dean’s announcement, the thought had crossed his mind, but as he watched them during dinner and saw their interactions, he had found the idea less and less likely.

“No,” he shook his head. “I really like him, Sam.”

“Alright, then… I guess I gotta give him a chance.”

“Thank you,” he said in relief.

“I guess that’s a perk to dating your best friend,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t have to worry about getting your approval.”

Dean grinned. “Especially not when it’s been sickening watching you two dance around it all these years. It’s about damn time.”

He shook his head. “You should’ve told me he liked me.”

“Some things you’ve just gotta find out on your own, Sammy.” He reached up to ruffle his hair as he walked by him to grab a beer out of the fridge. “I’m really glad you’re back, by the way.”

Sam turned to smile at him. “I’m glad I’m back, too.”


End file.
